Just Another Year
by crookedheart17
Summary: Back for their final year at Hogwarts, the population mourns the loss of their beloved friends. The Weasleys are back into the spirit and immediately put the school in more distress than it needs. In light of new situations and a mysterious professor, Harry may learn more about what was hiding behind Voldemort's grip on his mind. D/H, bad language and sexual situations ahead!
1. Chapter 1

**Hiya readers :] I'm aware that I already have a HP story goin on somewhere else, but I kinda got out of that..**

**But something I will never fall out of love with is some Drarry :DD **

**Here's an idea I got. PS this is also my first time ever writing in present tense…so sorry if there are any grammatical errors, feel free to bring any errors to my attention [:**

**FOREWARD: contains some slash in later chapters, if it's not your cuppa tea, then im telling you now, you're warned ;) **

**(also: this is set in their seventh year, the war has been won, and everyone's back to re-do their previous year. All character deaths are still included.)**

"Harry, check these out!"

Harry Potter is sitting with his two best friends in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, absentmindedly rubbing the scar on his forehead when Ron's voice snaps him out of his daydreaming.

"What?" Harry sits up and looks over towards his friend, who is excitedly brandishing a shiny package that is half-unwrapped.

"Fireworks!" Ron stresses. Harry raises his eyebrows and he notices Hermione peeking over at them from the top of her book.

"Who'd you nick those off of?" Harry laughs.

"Nobody, you git, I found 'em in the bottom of my trunk. Must've been a prototype from my brothers they'd snuck in." Harry notices the way Ron was unable to say his older twin brothers' names. Any mention of the ones who had given their lives for Harry's safety caused an uncomfortably despairing silence to fall among the group.

Harry ignores the fractional moment of awkwardness.

"Nice, what do they…do?" Harry questions.

Ron seems to look at him like he's an idiot.

"You grew up with Muggles, yet you've no idea what a firecracker does?"

Harry promptly chucks a half-eaten Chocolate Frog at Ron, who dodges it deftly. "Of course I know what they do!" Harry defends. "But what makes these different?"

"Well, knowing Fre-" Hermione, interrupting, catches herself, "Ron's brothers, they're probably laced with something really stupid…or dangerous. Or perhaps, and most likely, both."

Harry glances at his second best friend, noticing the blood that is pooling into her cheeks from her near slip-up. Hoping Ron doesn't notice it, Harry covers up any doubt by uttering an obnoxiously fake laugh.

Ron ignores both of them before continuing, "I always thought I heard loud noises from their room." He smiles at a memory. "I remember once they accidentally blew a hole through their ceiling and the attic, putting a hole in the roof. Mum was furious, and Dad couldn't repair it with magic. Took them weeks to patch those holes."

"Are you sure you should have those, Ron?" Hermione asks him meekly upon hearing his story.

"Relax, 'Mione, what Filch doesn't know won't hurt him," He responds with a wink, leaning across the seats to plant a sloppy kiss on her mouth. She giggles in a very un-Hermione-ish way and blushes even deeper than before. Ron simply smiles and eats the rest of the Chocolate Frog Harry threw at him.

"I bet you can't wait to try those out." Harry remarks.

"Yeah, want to tonight?" Ron asks him through a mouthful of chocolate.

Harry nods distractedly, hearing Hermione humph in disagreement; he could see her face behind his now closed eyelids, her eyes rolling back and her mouth puckered in a disapproving grimace.

They sit in silence for several minutes before the time comes for them to change into their robes.

Harry thinks to himself how much different his final year at Hogwarts will be than all the others as they exit their compartment with their trunks in hand.

The first, and most obvious, difference is the absence of Professor Dumbledore behind the podium as everyone files into the Great Hall for the Start of Term Feast.

Harry's heart aches as his mind replays the old wizard's last moments, the flash of light from Professor Snape's wand and how the Headmaster was flung off the tower like an overlooked doll.

Despite the death of his role model, Professor McGonagall is a wonderful replacement who will likely bring the school to new heights. Not only is she one of the few female Headmistresses, she is the only one of both male and female descendants to continue teaching their previous position as well as hold the title of Headmaster or Mistress.

Harry feels that she will do Dumbledore justice, that she will repair the snipped heartstrings from the war. Now that Voldemort is gone, and the Death Eaters are all either dead or locked away forever in Azkaban, very little threat is left to loom over the students' heads. The returning students are anxious to start their previous year over without any worries of death, or Voldemort's minions breathing down their backs, shooting curses at their feet.

Harry and Ron and Hermione gladly dig into their feast laughing and enjoying every moment they can spend with each other. Harry glances up off of his plate and looks across the Hall to the Slytherin table.

His eyes are drawn automatically to the blonde head that is ducked over a plate. Draco Malfoy lifts his head and glances sullenly around the room, his grey eyes flitting between all the familiar faces around him. Harry feels a stab of pity for the lost boy with the hurt look on his face. He had saved Draco's life, and his father's had been lost shortly afterwards.

It isn't like Harry has any fuzzy feelings for Malfoy, but he is practically on his own now. Harry believes he is no longer the evil being he once was, only one more misunderstood. Malfoy raises his eyes and catches Harry looking at him and sneers forcefully back. Harry snaps his head away and glares at his food.

"You alright, Mate?" Ron mumbles through his food. Harry looks up at him.

"Yeah, I uh…" Harry rubs his eyes. "I'm fine."

Hermione gives him a concerned look and glances over her shoulder at Malfoy, who is looking at the table.

"Thinking about Malfoy again?" She asks softly.

Dean, who is sitting beside Harry, snorts with laughter.

"_Again?_ As in he's thought about him before?" Dean slaps Harry on the back. "Yeah, his father's dead and his Mum's insane, but that doesn't mean you got to go all gooey on us, Harry!" He slips Harry a wink, and Harry feels his face flush.

"I-I was just wondering how he was doing." Harry defends himself in spite.

"Harry, Malfoy's had it out to do you in his entire existence. He was kicked out of the Death Eaters and now he's sad. He'll get over it." Ron replies, obviously wanting to end whatever discussion of Malfoy's feelings that is bound to come up next.

Harry grimaces and pushes his potatoes around his plate. He feels eyes on him and glances up to see Hermione's cinnamon eyes looking at him, a concerned crease forming in the middle of her forehead.

Harry ignores her and finishes his dinner.

Ron shoots panicked looks all around him as Filch does his routine check of everyone's trunks in search of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, even though the store was now out of business. Ron has the illegal fireworks stashed under his cloak and in his trousers, a hiding spot he finds to be the most clever. Hermione rolls her eyes at him for the second time that day, and surely not the last.

Harry laughs at first and second years as they get their Fanged Frisbees and Skiving Snackboxes confiscated, and a distraught fourth year is sobbing over the broken bottle of love potion that is seeping through the pocket of her robes.

"Just think, Ron, that was us our third year!" Seamus elbows Ron in the ribs, apparently oblivious to the precious cargo Ron has under his clothing. Ron's face nearly turns purple with anxiety as Filch goes through his things. His eyes linger a little too long on the slight bulge on Ron's crotch.

"Oi!" Ron snaps at the old man, diverting his eyes from what is surely thought of as a rouge prick.

The caretaker, obviously flustered, pushes Ron forward and out of the way of his angry path towards a group of gallivanting fifth years.

Once out of the crowd, Harry, Ron, and Seamus break into rib-splitting laughter at the encounter that just happened.

"You are _never_ living that one down, Weasley!" Seamus manages through his choking laughter.

The three boys join Neville and Dean on the trek to Gryffindor tower and immediately share the story of the day. Harry laughs with the rest, but a part of him feels detached, as if a hidden thought was nagging at the back of his mind, a thought that wasn't letting itself known.

He manages to shake it off by the time they reach the portrait and everyone looks at him for the password. Harry simply stammers back at them.

"You, of all people, Mister Potter should know this password." The Fat Lady chides at him. Harry shrugs. "Because it's you lot, I suppose I'll let you in." The Fat Lady grumbled with a sigh.

Harry raises his eyebrows in surprise at the word, but is silent as the painting swings forwards and allows the boys to clamber through the opening.

The common room is bustling as usual, the atmosphere tinged with the excitement of a new school year, a feeling that would die off by the end of the week as homework piled up and happiness was replaced with stress over classes. The chairs are temporarily taken by scattered books and letters that are dumped about by careless owners as they strive to tell every detail of their fearless summers to their friends. As Harry's presence in the room is noticed, the noise level diminishes by a fraction and everyone, especially the first years, shoot furtive glances at him.

Harry nods and smiles at his old friends, ignoring the gaggle of giggling girls crowding the stairway to the boy's dormitory.

"Excuse me," Harry mutters as he pushes through the girls to his room.

His friends follow behind him and look at each other curiously as they enter the familiar circular room they had come to call home for the last seven years (give or take). Harry dumps his trunks at the foot of his bed and the rest follow suit as he flops on his bed, closing his eyes and letting the din from downstairs sooth him as well as the chatter that was beginning to form in the room.

"Whoa!" Someone shouts and causes Harry's eyes to spring open. He sits up and looks for the cause of the exclamation.

All of his roommates are crowded around Ron's bed; Harry saunters over to the other side of the room and glances at what the other guys are ogling.

The fireworks.

They are wrapped in dazzlingly bright colors and pictures of explosions and sparks in the shapes of inappropriate gestures and words are flashing on the paper. One is labeled "The Boomerang", claiming to return back to the wizard who set it off in the form of a flaming yellow ball, only to be extinguished and set off again.

" 'Extremely dangerous. I wouldn't open these if I were you.' " Ron reads aloud the warning that was conspicuously printed below a graphic purple interpretation of the latest and most popular sex position, one that makes even Harry blush.

At those words, Ron tears the wrapping off and points his wand at the explosives.

"Ron-" Harry tries to stop him, but he is interrupted by a deafening _CRACK_ that resounds and echoes through out the room, followed by the sounds of shattering glass and falling stones.

The boys duck their heads and listen to the whistling of the fireworks.

Rather than to look up and see where the fireworks could've possibly shot to, everyone looks up at their new ceiling of stars, and jagged walls around them. They stare up in awe of the grotesque and lewd pictures and words that are being projected into the night sky.

Their reveries ware only destroyed as the unmistakable screech of Hermione resounds from the lower floor of Gryffindor Tower at the sound and sight of The Boomerang as it crashes through the wrong wall and into common room.

"_RONALD!" _

Ron blanches.

"Shit."

**Yaayy Ron, for screwing things up! **

**We'll see where this goes from here, I think I have the next chapter pretty much figured out, but I'm definitely going to need you guys to keep this thing going. **

**I plan on making this entire story up as I go, letting the readers feed me ideas. **

**The title will stay this plain and simple as it is, for I have no idea where the story will lead to after the next chapter. **

**I'm accepting ideas through reviews or PM (preferably PM if they're borderline amazing). I'll give you credit if I use one of your ideas.**

**Let your imaginations flow, my dearies! **

**I don't have a computer with internet access at my lovely home, so I will be updating when I have access.**

**I reserve the longest ANs for the first chapter, so..yeah. [: **

**R&R, loves!**

**~meg**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's hoping you all liked the first chapter :D I believe things will start to get more interesting in this chapter! **

**Stay by me! 3**

The boys on the top dormitory tear their attention away from the scream downstairs and gaze up at the night sky that had replaced their ceiling and light fixtures.

"Fuck, Ron, we're screwed!" Seamus yells, looking around the room as everyone's eyes settle on Neville, who is vainly attempting to use _repairo _on the disheveled tower. The silvery sparks that are being emitted from his wand attempt to surround the wreckage, but they give up in desperation and tinkle back on the wooden floor.

The sounds of many pairs of feet trampling up the stairs makes Harry look at the door just as half of Gryffindor tower (or at least what was left of it) burst into their room, some gasping, some laughing, a few even yelping. Everyone is talking at once, chiding Ron and the others, while a few boys look up at the remaining pictures and giggle.

"Ron!" Hermione stomps over to the redhead, whose face is the same hue as his hair. He cringes as his girlfriend yells his name.

"Yes, dear?" He whispers in a small voice.

"I cannot _believe_ what you just did! Do you know what this means?" Hermione is beyond furious at Ron. He looks as if he is about to explain himself, but she gives him no chance.

"Expulsion! Suspension! Not to mention the fact that it can't be repaired magically! That bloody fireball shot back and knocked out the common room walls and several other floors! Where will people sleep?"

"Hermione-" Harry steps in and places a hand on her shoulder, but she jerks away, turning on him.

"And you!" Pointing an accusing finger at Harry, who steps back in shock. "I would think that you of all people would stop him!"

"I tried!" Harry defends, shrugging his shoulders dramatically and taking a moment to glare at Ron.

"Bollocks!" She shoots back at him, earning a laugh from the surrounding people. She looks about ready to turn on them as well, but Professor McGonagall saves the amused students by parting the crowd, her lips in a tight and angry line worthy of Harry's Aunt Petunia.

"You four," She looks at Harry, Ron, Seamus and Neville, "come with me."

"Professor-" Harry catches the sleeve of McGonagall's robes and she turns around.

"Yes, Potter?"

Harry sighs. "It wasn't Seamus or Neville, please don't punish them as well."

The Professor sighs heavily. "Fine. Finnigan, Longbottom-you stay here." She turns back around and motions for Harry and Ron to follow.

Harry tugs on Ron's robes and pulls him along, both of their faces burning as they take the walk of shame through the room and the tower-and it isn't the type of shameful walk they want to be having.

The three are silent as they walk to The Headmistress's office, and Harry goes through the possible consequences he could be facing soon.

"Lemondrop." She snaps at the entrance, causing the wall and statue to rotate and turn into a staircase. Harry notes to himself that she keeps the same password scheme as Professor Dumbledore as they quietly ascend the staircase.

Not much change had come to the office during the switch of occupants. Portraits of the previous Headmasters of Hogwarts were still lined up against the back wall, and there was one added. Harry's heart jumps when he sees the crinkled and smiling face of Albus Dumbledore looking back at him from his frame. He tries to have a stern face, but Harry sees the glint of mischief that is present in the old wizard's twinkling blue eyes. The cushioned chairs that are placed in front of the desk are the same ones that Harry has sat in many times, but it is odd to see a different figure perching behind the familiar desk.

"Boys," Professor McGonagall begins, burying her face in her hands before looking up at the two students in front of her, and shaking her head with a small, but discernible smile. "You have managed to destroy the majority of Gryffindor Tower." Harry and Ron cringe at hearing their deed spoken out loud.

"This is something I have never, in all my years of teaching, had to see. Knowing the trouble you two have been in, I'm not very surprised that it was you who eventually saw it through."

Harry chuckles in agreement and glances at Ron, who is surely worrying about what his Mother would say.

"I won't be punishing you-" She continues, causing both of the offenders to snap their heads up in clear disbelief. "_harshly_." She adds, causing the recently erect heads to slump back down.

"What does that mean?" Harry asks reluctantly.

"That, for the few months it will take to repair the damage manually, I have decided that the Gryffindor house shall be divided and sent to room with the remaining houses." She replies, looking at Harry from over her glasses.

"How is that a punishment?" Ron queries, afraid he already knows the answer.

"Because you and your dormitory will now be residing with the Slytherin house."

Harry and Ron grumble to each other the entire walk back to their ruined rooms, furious over having to room with Slytherins.

"Does this mean we have to sleep in the same room as them?" Ron asks Harry angrily.

"Well, Ron, I wouldn't think that they have an empty dorm laying around." Harry replies with a smirk. Ron curses under his breath as they reach the portrait, and Ron mutters the same password as earlier in the night.

After the painting swung shut behind them, Harry gets a chill due to the new draft that was wafting trough the spacious holes in the walls. Harry groans and summons his things from upstairs, causing Ron to do the same. They turn back towards the entry, wanting to escape from the grasp of angry stares as soon as possible, when Hermione spots them.

"Where are you two going?" She demands before looking at their trunks in hand, her face dropping as her mind flies to the worst.

"To our new rooms." Harry tells her. Hermione cocks her head in confusion.

"I guess everyone else will be getting the news soon, but McGonagall's splitting everyone to different houses while the repairs are being done." He explains.

"And guess where we're going?" Ron supplies her with a cheerfully fake voice. He answers for her. "Slytherin."

Her face contorts into a cringe.

"Please don't die there-or become corrupted." She tells them. Harry laughs and gives her a hug.

"I love you both, you better still sit with me at meals." She continues with a small smile before standing on her toes and placing her hands on either side of Ron's face and giving him a passionate kiss. "Bye," she whispers to him. He smiles and kisses her back.

"See you soon, 'Mione." He replies, turning to exit the Common rooms with Harry.

As soon as Harry steps out of the portrait, he runs headlong into a tall figure. He stumbles a tad, and promptly glances up into the swirling eyes he's felt hate for his whole life at Hogwarts.

"Boo," Malfoy says softly in Harry's face, causing an odd tingle to rush down his spine, one he blames on surprise, although it doesn't feel quite the same.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron sneers, allowing Harry to collect himself.

"You should be nicer to the one you'll be rooming with for the next three months-I could prank you in your sleep." Malfoy drawls back with a hint of honey in his voice.

"Rooming with you? As if." Ron snorts.

Malfoy ignores him and pushes past Harry, his robes brushing the bare skin of Harry's arm, causing another chill. Malfoy stops and sees the raised hairs and a half-smile spreads along his thin lips.

"I'm terribly sorry if I make you uncomfortable Potter-just try not to pull too many moves on me while we share a room." The blonde says this just loud enough for the clearly, and unexplainably, flustered raven to hear, and turns on his heel to walk down the corridor.

Harry glances at Ron, who is staring incredulously at Malfoy's back with his mouth twist in what looks like disgust.

Without a look back, Malfoy calls to them, "Follow me."

Harry and Ron have no choice but to shake their heads and follow as far back from Malfoy as they possible can.

"What was that about?" Ron whispers to Harry as they follow the twisting staircases through the dark halls.

"Dunno," Harry replies, his mind running around the comment Malfoy had made…

"Do you think you'll have to room with him? Like, by yourself? He is a prefect, has his own room." Ron wonders aloud.

"I was just thinking about that. But why me? Why not you or Seamus? Or Neville?" Ron shudders at the thought Harry poses.

"Maybe McGonagall knows you're least likely to kill the bloody prat." Ron snarls.

"Hush up back there-I'm not deaf!" Malfoy suddenly calls from ahead of them. "We're nearly there."

Ron and Harry are quiet as they notice that they had entered the cold, gloomy dungeons. Harry is a bit intimidated to ender the snake's lair again, only this time he is actually invited.

"Long live Severus." Malfoy whispers the password to Paranoid Pete, who sighs grimly and swings forward to allow the Slytherin Prince and his 'hostages' into the cave of a common room.

The light is dull and tinged with a green color, due to the swampy light casting through the dark windows that leads to the depths of the Lake. The air is colder than the Tower, and all of the walls and floors are a dull black stone, the same that the dungeons are comprised of. A regal and spiraled staircase led to what Harry believes to be the dormitories. Another twin staircase is on the opposing side of the square room, which leads to the opposite gender's rooms. Nestled in between the two staircases is a crackling fireplace and spacious leather couches and seats, comfortably worn throughout the centuries with tattered green rugs and velvety silver pillows dotting the cushions. Harry eyes a snake-studded tapestry on the wall to his right as he climbs the staircase, following Malfoy to their new quarters.

"Weasley, you're here," Malfoy presents Ron's new room with an air of boredom, flicking his wand to the door, causing it to fly open and reveal a small room with three beds. Deafening snores were flying through the open door, and a quick glance into the lightly moonlit room reveals one of the beds being smothered by a gargantuan body. "You'll be rooming with Crabbe." He pauses to observe the horrorstruck face that slowly, but surely, creeps onto the redhead's face before adding, "but don't worry; I told him to play nice."

Ron looks desperately at Harry, who shrugs in apology before being knocked on in the back of the head by Malfoy to leave his friend at the threshold of his personal Hell and continue up the stairs.

"And where am I supposed to be going?" Harry quips after a few flights.

"Keep walking. You'll know when to stop." Malfoy smirks.

Harry does indeed realize when to stop: when there are no more stairs. He is stopped in front of a regal door that has a silver plaque with the words "Prefect" emblazoned on it with decorative snakes garnishing the edges. Harry coughs back a snort. Malfoy eyes him in an unfriendly way and says his personal password.

"Scorpio." He shoots at the door, which promptly opens and reveals a spacious bedroom with a grand kind-sized bed and a desk below a window that looks upon the landscape of the Lake with it's mountainous horizon.

Harry tosses his trunk in the corner and stands in the middle of the room.

"There's one bed." He states. Malfoy turns to look at him blankly.

"And?" He drawls.

"Well…I..I don't really think you want to share a bed with me." Harry says lamely.

"And what makes you say that?" Malfoy drawls again, a malicious gleam in his eyes.

Harry lets the innuendo fall and charms back the duvet of the luxurious bed and slips between the sheets.

"I kick in my sleep, is all; brace yourself." Harry counters, shutting off the lights with his wand and leaving poor Malfoy in the dark.

"Don't pull anything, Potter. I don't like to be seduced." Malfoy spits as Harry feels him crawl into bed beside him. Harry laughs out loud as he hears a barrier charm being cast behind him, Malfoy's way of insuring that Harry won't lay a hand on him.

"In your dreams, Malfoy." Harry murmurs into his pillow, beginning to drift off to sleep after a chaotic first day-he had not thought to end the night's antics in bed with one Draco Malfoy.

**Ooooohhh…sharing a room..and a bed…. ;D**

**More to come soon! **

**Please give me something to go off of! This is as far as I planned. **

**Love you all!**

**~meg**


	3. Chapter 3

**As of the moment I'm writing this, I have three dedicated fans..**

**(Rainingonaparade72, paramoreeloverr, and ladyyukki)**

**Thanks to all three for ideas and support! Recruit your friends, I'm excited about this one!**

**(bland chapter ahead, btw. I'm making this one up as I type. I currently don't even have an opening sentence. This shall test my writing powers.)**

**GO!**

Harry wakes after a surprisingly fitful sleep by the strange feeling of being trapped against a pane of glass. He shakes his eyes open and finds himself on Draco Malfoy's bed, his body against what must be Malfoy's barrier charm. By squinting his eyes (he doesn't have his glasses) he can make out a figure close to the other side of the barrier, but not squished against it like he is.

Malfoy's blonde hair is sticking up crazily and he is curled up, his knees touching the charm, his lean chest rising and falling with his breath. Harry can't help but think of how innocent he looks in his sleep. Still pressed against the wall, straining to get a better look, he allows his eyes to scan the boy's body. Malfoy got taller over the years and his body developed quite a bit of lean muscle, due to quidditch. His strong arms are bent at the elbows, one of them stretched up and is used to prop his head as a pillow, and the other is close to his body, his long, pale fingers curling against his smooth neck. Harry brings his eyes from his body and studies his enemy's face.

Malfoy's skin is so pale up close that even without his glasses, Harry can see the faint tracings of veins pumping his lifeblood through his body. The high cheekbones of his face contour smoothly into a severely angular and pointed jaw, a feature that only he can pull off. In his subconscious, Malfoy licks his lips and sighs, his tongue brushing his shell pink lips almost languidly, and the breath released is so close to Harry that it fogs up the barrier, like glass.

Harry closes his eyes, tired from straining them, and relaxes his breathing. No more than two minutes later, he feels Malfoy shift and thinks nothing of it, until the glass he is pressed against vanishes and he feels himself fall to the right, directly onto his bedmate.

Harry scrambles back and opens his eyes, shoving his glasses up his nose frantically. He focuses on the figure of Malfoy, sheets twisted around his legs, his hands folded behind his head while his bright silver eyes gaze up at Harry expectantly.

"Morning, Potter." He drawls lazily.

"Malfoy," Harry nods, rolling off the bed and stretching.

"You were a little close for comfort there, Golden One, I woke up to see your scarred face pressed against that barrier. Bet you can imagine what a wake up call that was to me." Malfoy snorts, getting up off the bed himself.

"Well at least I don't sleep curled up like a baby." Harry retorts, turning towards the door that he supposes leads to the bathroom.

He feels a stinging hex hit him and he freezes before he even reaches the knob. He is frozen where he is by electricity, and he's helpless as Malfoy walks up behind him and places his hand on the middle of Harry's back and slides it up to grasp his shoulder before turning him around from the door.

"Maybe if you weren't so bloody close to me you wouldn't have noticed that." Malfoy whispers at him dangerously from his close range. "And by the way, I get first dibs on the hot water." Malfoy locks his eyes on Harry's for several moments before waving his wand with his free hand, releasing Harry, and pushing him back the short distance to the bed at the same moment.

As Malfoy disappears behind the door, Harry sits up, still dazed from being pushed back onto the bed at such force, and rubs his eyes before thinking:

_What the hell just happened? _

**(AUTHORS NOTE: sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry for interrupting the story, but I'ma try something new and alternate to Draco's POV. Cross your fingers!)**

Draco sighs as he turns on the shower and slips off his clothes. Sharing a room with bloody Harry Potter… It couldn't get worse. He has enough on his plate without having to baby sit Harry-fucking-Potter. Not to mention they have to share a bed. Sure, Draco has gotten around with quite a few people, males included, but Potter is the last person he wants to get in bed. Despite popular belief, he has no interest in him.

As he steps under the spray of hot water, Draco notices a strange tingle that occupies his body, almost making him feel arousal. Searching his mind for the cause of the sudden feeling, all he can find were flashes of what must've bee a dream, or perhaps a memory, of seeing his own hands rub up the ridges of someone's tanned stomach, the other pair's hands, male due to the feel and size, were locked with a bruising force on his upper arms and he feels a pair of phantom lips mashing with his own. He rakes his memories for a pair of lips that feel that connected with his own, but finds none. He shrugs off the tingles and chocks it up to a fantasy his subconscious created. He isn't surprised that he couldn't put a name or face to the body-during earlier years he'd taken his angst out on both genders. He's forgotten how many blokes he'd snogged.

Washing his hair, which he has stopped gelling, he tries to think of ways to mess with Potter while they are rooming together. He thinks of enchanting his toothbrush to constantly try to choke him-but he tosses that one; it can cause him too much pleasure. Word on the street is that Potter flies for the other team as well. Draco laughs and the thought of sex pushes him to a new idea. He decides that the games would begin tonight.

Despite whatever Potter's sexual orientation may be, Draco will have some fun getting Potter uncomfortable. Maybe Draco will find out something no one never knew for sure.

He can just imagine the kinds of scandalous headlines that will come with that one.

Harry is still laying back on the bed where Malfoy left him prior to dominating the bathroom. Still a little ticked that he has been hexed on their first morning together, the electricity from the spell still tingling through his veins. Or, Harry thinks, that feeling could be from his current state of arousal.

Fuck being a seventeen-year-old male.

Harry scoffs at Malfoy and sits up from the bed as he exits the now thoroughly steamed bathroom, ignoring the prissy way Malfoy is drying his hair, and focusing on the fact that he probably has no more hot water for his morning shower. But for the moment, his main worry is attempting to sneak past Malfoy without him noticing the extreme hard-on he has woken up with. Whatever he was dreaming about, he seemed to like it. He'd spent Malfoy's time in the shower to make it go away, but it hadn't worked. He slips past Malfoy as he exits the doorway and prays that no appendages had touched him.

Sighing in relief as he successfully squeezes past the blonde, Harry steps foot into the cool and tiled bathroom and anxiously turns on the water. He feels the need to cleanse his body; sleeping in the same bed as Malfoy leaves him feeling more than a little bit dirty. He has definitely heard rumors of what went on in that bed-Harry shivers at the thought, and not in the way others imagining a naked Malfoy rolling in his sheets with another body would have. Many a time had he seen a disheveled Gryffindor (of either gender, mind you) trudge the walk of shame through the common rooms at the early hour that only Harry was there to witness, the smell of sex and Malfoy heady on their skin.

Harry shakes the thoughts from his mind and strips off his clothes now that the water is at a sufficient temperature. A small chill runs down his spine and he suddenly feels vulnerable and self-conscious as he stands naked in Draco Malfoy's bathroom. His still-engorged cock is standing at attention and Harry hastily scrambles behind the curtain just in case Malfoy is playing Peeping Tom. He doubts it, but crazier things have been known to happen.

Harry finishes his shower, his morning problems thoroughly resolved, and dresses quickly, buttoning his shirt as he exits the bathroom. He steps through the doorway and sees Malfoy laying on the bed, his tie half-on, dozing in the sun. Harry briefly ponders the idea of leaving him there, but quickly decides on payback. He raises his wand for a curse, but pauses when Malfoy shuffles in his sleep, moaning a bit and squeezing his eyes shut. Harry watches as he arches his back slightly off the bed and moans again. Harry blushes and quickly tears his eyes from the shape in Malfoy's half-buttoned trousers, raising his wand once again to douse his roommate with a Cold Shower Curse, one that would keep the victim's libido painfully low for several hours. Harry chuckles as Malfoy springs off the bed, his face flushed and his pulse evidently racing. He shoots a look at Harry, who lifts a shoulder in return.

"Judging by the look on your face, I figured you'd thank me later." is all he says, a glimmer of something in Harry's green eyes. "Now finish dressing yourself and come to breakfast."

Malfoy splutters a half-formed answer, straightening his tie and fastening his trousers back, staring at the back of Harry's head with a greatly incredulous and puzzled look.

"A binding curse, Harry!" Harry is eating breakfast with his fellow Gryffindors while attempting to sympathize with Ron as he explains his horrid night with Goyle.

"Mmph." Harry responds, his gaze unfocused.

"Merlin, Harry, be a bit more sensitive, will you? I woke up at three am unable to move and no one could hear me calling for help over the booming snores of that giant. It was horrible." Ron mopes and Hermione squeezes his hand on top of the table.

"Well I got stuck with Pansy." Hermione comments. Several people within earshot groan audibly.

"How'd that go?" Harry inquires, managing to finally jump into the conversation.

"Quite interesting, actually." Hermione begins, "All she wanted to do all night was try to fix my hair and gossip about people. I never knew Queenie Greengrass slept around so much."

"Are you kidding? Everyone knows that!" Ron says incredulously. Hermione rolls her eyes at him, then turns to Harry.

"How was your night?" She asks him, causing Harry to snap out of his gaze.

"Er-alright, I guess." He replies listlessly.

"Just alright?" Hermione pries.

Harry shrugs. "He's a prefect so, he has his own room with one bed," Ron pulls a face when Harry mentions that, "that we had to share. He put up a barrier charm between us because he's big-headed enough to think that I'd try to pull something on him."

Ron scoffs. "At least you can still sit with us at meals."

Harry beams, "Yeah."

As he and his friends walk to class, Harry realizes that he has never felt so unburdened on the first day of school in his life.

Draco sits at the Slytherin breakfast table, listening to his housemates drone on about how their new roommates are annoying. Draco is asked about Potter's new position in his dorm, but Draco shrugs it off. He has to admit that he has been thinking about the bloody Gryffindor far too much this morning.

Draco knows that if there is one thing he likes to do it is wind people up. He enjoyed seeing the look on Potter's face that morning when he hexed him to the door and pushed him down on his own bed. It made him feel powerful, and the affect he got out of the other boy was priceless. Potter obviously had a good dream that night and Draco's touch on his back didn't seem to help, even if it was from a bloke. Potter probably laid there on the bed the entire time Draco was in the shower thinking about his sexuality.

At least that's what Draco likes to think.

He doesnt fancy Potter, he simply enjoys getting on his nerves. Now that the war is over and Potter had saved his life more than once, he feels as if there is no need for the animosity felt between them anymore. Now Draco will keep it to a mild banter, unless Potter gives him any other reason to be a prat towards him.

Draco suddenly feels a pair of eyes on him and he glances up to see a rather dashing young male, perhaps a sixth year, stopped in front of his table.

"Hullo, may I help you?" Draco inquires slyly, the boy's dark blue eyes burn into Draco's with surprising intensity.

The boy simply smiles and tosses a folded piece of parchment onto his plate, then walks away. Draco finds himself staring at the mystery boy's sculpted arse as he saunters off. He picks up the note and it read,

Draco,

I heard some people talking about a good stress relieving regimen you have. I would like for you to give me a few pointers before the school year gets going.

Meet me in the library after dinner and we can discuss it from there.

Michael

Draco smiles in delight. His plans for later will work even more perfectly now.

Draco I interrupted by Pansy's voice to his right.

"Who is _that_?" She cries softly to Draco, her eyes glued onto the boy's retreating figure. She snaps her eyes back at Draco for answer.

"Just a younger year wanting my tutoring skills," Draco replies uninterestedly, masking the burn he feels in his belly. Pansy snorts inelegantly.

"Yeah, sure." She rolls her eyes, throwing an elbow in Draco's ribs.

Draco grumbles back through a mouthful as his mind runs wild.

Harry and his friends feel relaxed as they laugh on their way to DADA, interest spiking the air around the corridor to the classroom as rumours flew regarding the new teacher.

"I hear he's part veela!"

"No, it was Vampire!"

"He's totally ga-"

"Did you see his _eyes_?"

Harry picks up different opinions of the mystery teacher's charms as they near the door, but nothing prepares him for the shock he receives when he approaches the threshold.

Harry stops short when the tall man in the doorway flashes him a slightly crooked, white smile and holds out a tanned hand in greeting.

"Harry Potter, what a pleasure," The new professor's voice rolls out of his mouth like music, the rich baritone caressing Harry's senses. For a moment, he is stricken.

"Um," He chokes out intelligently, wiping suddenly damp palms on his robes before grasping the older man's cool, dry hand.

A spark shot through Harry's arm at contact and he gasps softly as the Professor's strikingly lavender eyes bore into his of green. The stark contrast between his tan skin, dark hair and light eyes and teeth dumbfounds Harry, and the titters sounding from behind him snap him back to life.

"Er, the pleasure's mine, Professor…" Harry trails off, realizing he doesn't know this beautiful man's name.

"Durante. Professor Faron Durante," He responds gracefully, and Harry is saddened for an unknown reason when the cold hand drops.

Professor Durante sweeps his arm through the door in welcome, his impossibly dark plum robes swishing magically.

After the charming man disappears into the classroom, Harry glances at the group behind him, all seemingly just as confused as Harry.

Everyone was settled in their seats before the presence of the captivating man wore down to a bearable hum. Harry is surprised to see even Ron watching the professor swirl around the room with slightly glassy eyes.

"What the hell is he?" Harry whispers to Hermione, whose usual demeanor of academics is broken.

"I think he _is_ part veela," She whispers. "Even the straight boys can't keep their eyes off of him." She shoots a pointed glance at Ron, who has a detached expression.

"That explains the feeling when he touched me." Harry absently rubs his still-tingling hand. Hermione simply nods and nobody pays attention for the duration of the class.

Draco eyes Harry from across the DADA classroom. Having Veela blood very far back in his line makes him immune to the handsome man's presence. Seeing Harry's glossy eyes and tiny smile, Draco smiles himself, thinking how easy his plan may really be.


End file.
